


Ms. Claus’ Favorite Holiday Whore

by DraceDomino



Category: Santa Clause (Movies)
Genre: Cock Worship, Collars, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Cuckolding, Deepthroating, Dominance, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/F, Futanari, Oral Sex, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Santa Kink, Shame, Size Difference, Sweat, ball worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraceDomino/pseuds/DraceDomino
Summary: Ho ho ho! Did you know, there isn't really a Santa? He never existed, that's all just a work of fiction!There IS, however, a Ms. Claus and she rules the North Pole with an iron fist. Her favorite elf is a woman named Tinsel, and every Christmas Eve Ms. Claus brutally facefucks the pointy-eared slut before sending her back to her husband.Then she delivers toys and games to the good boys and girls. So the songs aren't ALL lies.
Relationships: Mrs. Claus/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	Ms. Claus’ Favorite Holiday Whore

Ms. Claus’ Favorite Holiday Whore  
-by Drace Domino

Christmas Eve had come again, and all across the world children were safe and sound in their beds, snuggled up and dreaming of the presents Santa would bring them. The good little boys and girls would be well-rewarded for their acts of compassion and kindness, and the ones that behaved like miserable little shitheads would get a lump of coal with a note attached, suggesting that they jam it straight up their ass.

Just another Christmas, and while the soothing warm glow of holiday cheer overtook households and families alike, good will and kindness were at the forefront of all. Parents sipping eggnog while sitting in front of a fire. Young lovers kissing under the mistletoe. Drunken office parties where the entire mailroom took turns running a train on the college intern. The usual.

And yet, all that holiday cheer brought upon by the worldwide treasure that was Santa Claus was built on a lie. Not a particularly big lie, in the grand scheme of things, but certainly an important one. The broad strokes were all the same. Good children received toys, candies, and games. Bad children received coal and occasionally a scathing letter about what assholes they had been. There was a kindly figure in a bright red suit that travelled the entire world in a single evening, riding a magical sleigh pulled by eight magnificent reindeer. The toys were made by elves, they all lived at the North Pole, and almost everything was exactly like the songs and stories told - except for the fact that Santa Claus wasn’t actually real.

At least, not the way most people perceived. The jolly soul in the bright red suit wasn’t a bearded man with a belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly, but rather a woman with chin-length tan hair sporting streaks of gray within. Wireframe glasses perched upon her nose to accent the sparkle of bright blue eyes, and her cherubic features wore the lines of her age - to some extent. Five hundred years old, and she barely looked a day over fifty-four. And while the fictionalized version of Santa Claus had that belly jiggling so merrily with every single laugh, Ms. Claus carried that extra weight in her backside in the form of a wide, curvy rump that jiggled just as readily.

Ms. Claus had always been there at the North Pole, doting upon the children of the world, spoiling the good and punishing the naughty. The construct of Santa was merely a clever deception - a way of throwing nosy humans off the trail. After all, what was Christmas without a juicy secret?

Ms. Claus hummed to herself that Christmas Eve, checking her list for the second time that night. The old grandfather clock in the corner of her office sported a hand for every region in the world, and when she glanced towards it she took note that she still had a few hours before she needed to leave. Time ticked slowly for Ms. Claus, and it was a good thing, too - the children that year had been particularly good, and that merited the extra attention she paid to the list.

“Let’s see...Roger, age ten.” She mused, studying the list with a thoughtful tone of voice. “Helped his teacher clean up every day after school when she broke her arm. Very good of him, indeed!” She tapped her pen into a nearby inkwell, and then gently checked his name. He’d get that Atari Jaguar he had his eyes on.

“And Stella, age twelve, hmm…” Ms. Claus narrowed her gaze as she looked at the list, and her lips turned particularly sour and hostile. She clicked her tongue with a sharp, condemning sound, and drew a long line through the girl’s name. “Teased one of her classmates because she started crying when she failed a test. Normally, it wouldn’t strike so hard against her, but...whew. The little bitch was relentless.” There was a lot Ms. Claus could tell from a child’s name - simply reading it filled her mind with visions of what they had done and whether they deserved coal or toys. “Started calling her Sobby Sally. The name stuck with the poor girl for months. And when Sally went to the principal, Stella lied to the teacher and got off without a single bit of punishment.”

Ms. Claus leaned back in her seat, and when she did so there was a tiny, muffled squeak from underneath the rim of her desk. She ignored it, and tapped the feathers of her quill against her pursed lips, pondering.

“Stella, Stella...same girl that punched her little cousin so hard she gave him a concussion last year. And the year before that, stole from her father’s wallet and blamed her mother.” She gave an elaborate sigh and shuffled her hips, once more drawing a muffled squeak from under the desk. “Well, her punishment this year will be severe. The usual coal, but...I think we’ll also put a little Christmas spell on her. Let’s see how well she fares when every time she hears Jingle Bells, she wets herself.”

Ms. Claus could do that. Just as another song said: Better not pout, I’m tellin’ you why - Santa Claus can cast an invocation that causes the target of her dark curse to piss themselves when they hear audio cues.

The song lost a bit in translation.

Ms. Claus continued to peruse her list, going through her famous second check while the hours ticked by devilishly slow. Though she had to leave for her trip “soon,” such was a fluid element for Ms. Claus - “soon” could be as much as a week to her, and she’d still have plenty of time to deliver all the good boys and girls their gifts. While she worked the merry old woman shifted from side to side, the red velvet jacket snug around her curvy, mature figure. Thick-waisted and full-breasted, Ms. Claus was packed as tightly into her outfit as a Christmas ham, although from the waist down things weren’t so snug. In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything at all below the belt of her jacket pulled around her chubby belly, save for the knee-high leather boots with a bright gold buckle firmly pressed to the front.

And while she worked, murmuring to herself and checking off names one by one, she was firmly sitting on the face of an elf. Her favorite elf, in fact. Or at least, her favorite elf to abuse.

The people of the world thought that Santa would be helpless without his elves, and that fiction like so many others was mostly true. The only deviation was that while the majority of Ms. Claus’ elves were hard at work pounding chips into Neo Geos or securing the heads onto Beach Whore Barbie, there was only one elf that she truly would’ve been lost without. One elf that did a job that no other elf at the North Pole could handle.

Her name was Tinsel, and at that moment she was choking for breath underneath the heavy weight of Ms. Claus’ sweaty, fat balls.

Again there was a tiny squeak and a pathetic murmur from underneath the jolly old woman’s desk, and again Ms. Claus ignored it. There were just so many names to check, and she couldn’t be bothered with anything else!

“Parsons, age sixteen…” Ms. Claus read the name, and slowly rolled her tongue from side to side. “Ho ho ho, you were very good this year! So many hours logged at the local animal shelter. Ms. Claus is a fellow animal lover, herself. Someone’s going to get that bong and a no-questions-asked PornHub Premium subscription they’ve had their eye on!”

***

For the past few hours, Tinsel was slowly suffocating underneath the weight of Ms. Claus’ balls. There was a tiny shelf underneath her desk specifically designed for the little elf to lay on, perfectly positioned so that her head would fit at just the perfect position. Stretched out and smothered, the little slip of a thing could do nothing more than moan and sob, the entire time with Ms. Claus’ nuts flavoring every gasped breath and pulling deep within her senses. Five minutes of it was rough. An hour was near torture. And now that she had been there for a good part of the day, Tinsel could scarcely remember the life she had beyond her prison.

A life with tiny elf children and a tiny elf husband, a life with friends and coworkers that she cared about. A life that she was only permitted to enjoy when Ms. Claus didn’t require her services - a life that she lived few and far between during the holiday season, as the North Pole’s top bitch required her to help handle her growing stress. November and December were always the roughest months on poor Tinsel, and this had been going on for years and years and years. Elves were gifted with the same immortality that Ms. Claus herself, which was convenient for centuries of practice suffocating underneath a pair of sweaty, musk-coated jingle bells.

Sometimes, a command would come from above, spoken sharply in contrast to Ms. Claus’ slow judgement of her list. A simple order for Tinsel to lick or kiss, or try to usher one of Ms. Claus’ balls into her mouth - an impossible task, considering their size difference. The commands would always come without warning ensuring that Tinsel had to strain herself to pay attention, refusing to allow the elf even the small comfort of letting her mind wander. She wasn’t permitted to think about anything else other than Ms. Claus during this special bonding time between them - when she was helping the jolly older woman, it was demanded that she was the only focus.

On the shelf under the desk, Tinsel’s tiny body was stripped bare save for the holiday trimmings used to bind her. Christmas lights were Ms. Claus’ favorite, and she used them to force Tinsel’s legs together and bind her hands behind her back, all while they blinked in merry patterns set to Christmas carols. As the hours went on it was hard not to be teased by the slow-building warmth of the lights while they blinked, or feel the points of their plastic caps digging against her flesh. Along a body that was dagger-thin, flat-chested, and slender, Ms. Claus had further decorated her holiday whore with a pair of sticky-backed bows set to her nipples, and the final decoration of a thick peppermint stick jammed straight into the little woman’s cunt.

Elves were...lithe. Even a regular old candy cane would’ve been more than enough for most elves - and in fact, they were the most popular masturbatory tool at the North Pole. But the thick all-day treat shoved into Tinsel’s pussy was a far cry from something so manageable, and she found herself squirming and rolling her hips from side to side, struggling to cope with it. The less said about the sticky, flavored mess coating her folds and her thighs the better.

This was Tinsel’s prison. Stretched flat on a shelf, smothered and stuffed, decorated like a festive Christmas tramp. Every breath she took was filled with the musky taste of Ms. Claus’ nuts, and she knew that when the older woman finally finished her list a whole new torment would come. This was the calm before the storm for Tinsel - and like so many little children around the world, she was waiting to see just what the jolly old woman had for her that Christmas Eve. Unlike those kids snuggled up in bed, however, she wasn’t looking forward to it.

She was only expecting to cry. Just like every year.

After what felt like an eternity, Ms. Claus finally finished up her list. More good boys and girls than bad this year, and that always put the old woman in a lovely holiday humor. Unfortunately for Tinsel, nothing got Ms. Claus quite as worked up as being in a good mood on Christmas Eve. When she started to lift herself up from her hours-long sit, her balls stuck to Tinsel’s face for a few seconds, peeling away from her like a leather seat on a hot summer day. When she finally rose the elf was left squinting against the light that hurt her eyes now that she was no longer imprisoned in ball-scented darkness, and with that stench still lingering in her senses she tracked the sight of the merry old woman above her.

“Well, now, Tinsel! Seems like you’re my last holiday chore before I deliver all my presents, ho ho hoooooo!” Ms. Claus’ sounded jovial, but then...she always did. Even when she was dishing out harsh treatment to her favorite elf bitch. “Hope I didn’t keep my favorite ball-sucking whore waiting long!”

Tinsel didn’t respond, still trying to collect her senses. She was pretty for an elf - probably why Ms. Claus had chosen her as her favorite. Curly red hair cascaded down to her shoulders and she had cheeks that were almost always rosy, complete with freckles that looked like tiny dots of glitter over her flesh. Her little elven ears came to an adorable point and her button elf nose was as cute as they came, working counterpoint with lines of age around her eyes to give her a look that was youthful and mature in the same fell swoop. As far as elves went, she was considered a bit of a MILF - and the only thing stopping other elves from constantly hitting on her at the North Pole office party was the knowledge of who she really belonged to.

Not her husband, of course. The frost-tinted wedding ring on her left hand meant absolutely nothing, as far as they were concerned. The only thing that mattered in the eyes of all the hard working elves was the heavy leather collar around her throat with a golden buckle at the very front. The mark of her true owner. The mark that she was, and always would be, Ms. Claus’ personal holiday whore.

And now, the elf gazed up towards that monstrous woman with a quiver in her throat and a growing sense of dread. She was still letting her eyes adjust to the light, but it hardly mattered - Ms. Claus’ massive cock was dangling in such a way that it obscured almost everything else. Thick, throbbing, pushed forward like a mammoth meal that was daring her to tackle it. Her cock was easily as thick as one of Tinsel’s arms, and speaking from personal experience, it was far, far too big to ever “get used” to.

Every time Tinsel was stabbed with that merry old dick felt like the first time. A Christmas miracle to be sure.

“You’ve had enough of a chance to catch your breath, I think.” Ms. Claus finally chuckled, and lowered a hand to scoop Tinsel up. She hoisted the little thing up onto her shoulder, and still without any pants began to head for the door. As she did so, her free hand rushed forward to clap the decorated whore on her tiny elf ass, and Tinsel gave a struggling whimper from the back of her throat. Tears marked her eyes as they made their way to the door of Ms. Claus’ office - no doubt so they could head to the old woman’s bedroom. The annual walk of shame. Tinsel knew it well.

“Let’s do one last check to make sure the other elves have everything in hand, and then we’ll spend some quality time together. Ho ho hoooooo!”

By the time Tinsel heard the door start to creak open, she began to cry again. Twas the season, after all.

***

The tour of the workshop would’ve been the worst part of every Christmas Eve - if the rest of it wasn’t so horrible for the tiny elf. Ms. Claus made her rounds with her bitch on her shoulder and her cock still hanging free, swinging back and forth and forcing her workers to give her a wide berth. With the little bitch dangling and decorated, her ass beside Ms. Claus’ head and her face watching their flank, Tinsel could do little more than see the looks of sympathy the other worker elves gave her.

They moved past the lines making bears and trains, with Ms. Claus lingering just to check the progress. She had her conversations casually and joyfully, ignoring the fact that to every waist-high elf her cock was dangerously close, and the fact that she cradled a bitch on her shoulder just like her sack full of toys. When she moved past the line the other workers gazed at their sobbing coworker with a blend of emotions - ranging from sympathy to a twisted envy. Few of them would’ve liked to have had their life upended by Ms. Claus the way poor Tinsel did, but...she was still the obvious favorite.

Ms. Claus made her rounds a bit quicker that night, a small comfort since it only meant that she’d be spending all the more time tormenting her personal cocksleeve sprite. From the toy lines to the packing department, and then finally to the stables where she checked on her wonderful flying reindeer. Ms. Claus delighted in rubbing her hand across all of their heads, digging fingers behind their ears to give them the scritches they so deserved.

“Ho ho ho, hope you boys all have plenty of energy tonight!” She chuckled, and jostled the bare-assed, festive cunt on her shoulder. “If you do, Ms. Claus might just let her favorite little helper reward you!”

It wouldn’t be the first time. For Tinsel the elf, the day after Christmas was nothing she looked forward to.

Eventually Ms. Claus drifted near the end of her rounds, the entire time greeting her elves and carrying on with a holly jolly spirit. The final stop on her tour was always the worst as she moved to the office closest to her bedroom, and Tinsel’s entire body tensed up as they drew near. The tears began to roll yet again and the little elf gave a quiet sob, enough to earn her a sharp, full-handed spank from the thick-cocked beast carrying her.

“Oh, hush up, my little holiday whore!” She chuckled. “You’ll get your belly filled soon enough, but you know we have to stop by and check in with Jingles first!”

As she opened the door and invited herself inside, the male elf within visibly winced. A plain-looking sprite with glasses and a clean cut look, Jingles was in charge of late-night naughty and nice changes. Every time a little boy or girl acted like a real piece of shit on Christmas Eve, it was his responsibility to magically amend Ms. Claus’ list. He was good at his job, had done it for centuries, and lived a rich and fulfilling life outside of his work. Friends, children, and...a wife.

A wife that was currently ass-up over Ms. Claus’ shoulder as the merry old woman stood with her cock hovering over Jingles’ desk.

“Sooooo? How are we doing this evening, Jingles?” Ms. Claus lifted her brow, beaming. Just like every year, she said nothing about the naked cunt draped across her shoulder - the light-bound bitch she was planning to spend the next few hours using. “Hope there aren’t too many last minute naughty kids! It’d be a shame if something put Ms. Claus in a bad mood on Christmas Eve!”

“N-No, Ms. Claus, there aren’t any more last minute changes than usual.” Jingles responded quickly, doing his best to make eye contact with the woman in charge, despite the morbid temptation to let his eyes wander. His own wife’s bare ass was facing him, legs bound together with Christmas lights and that big peppermint stick still jammed within her cunt - now dripping a juicy white flavor across Ms. Claus’ shoulder. Fighting back tears, Jingles tried to focus on his work, looking back to the face of his abuser. “Is...is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Claus?”

“No, that’ll be fine.” Came the cruel and casual response, and Ms. Claus gave a slow stretch. Her cock waved slowly back and forth across Jingles’ desk, swinging so far that it suddenly struck the framed picture of the elf, Tinsel, and their children that was perched at the edge. It fell to the floor and broke with a clatter, and Ms. Claus casually pointed to the mess before turning back around on a heel. “Clean that up before you leave for the night.”

“Y-Yes, Ms. Claus. I’m sorry, Ms. Claus.” Jingles’ voice was defeated and weak by the time the older woman turned back around, making her way out the door again. He was afforded one last look at the weeping face of his bride - her eyes red and her cheeks streaked with tears, but it was all too brief before Ms. Claus slammed the door behind her and moved on to her destination. Before long, the horrible sounds from the room next door would begin, and all Jingles had to keep himself distracted was cleaning up the broken mess of his family’s picture frame.

Served him right for marrying Ms. Claus’ personal cocksleeve.

Before long, Ms. Claus stood in the center of her bedroom, a lavish affair with a massive bed, and Christmas decorations from corner to corner. She suddenly threw the tiny elf on her shoulder straight into the center of the bed, and as the sobbing sprite bounced in place the older woman slowly approached with a grin. Her cock was still left exposed and by that point oozing a glistening dot of precum from the tip, and although it would’ve been intensely easy to pin Tinsel down and fuck her until she broke, there was still plenty of time to torment her. One of Ms. Claus’ hands pressed down fiercely on the little elf’s flat belly, making her squirm and whimper while she probed against her with a greedy, hungry presence.

“You worthless little whore…” Ms. Claus cooed, her other hand drifting low to the thick peppermint stick that was serving to keep Tinsel’s pussy occupied. She twisted it back and forth within the elf’s cunt and even pushed it further, making the little thing writhe and whimper all the harder. “I bet you just loved making the rounds like that, didn’t you? Letting all the other little elves see what a soaked bitch you are.” She briefly gazed to her shoulder where her velvet suit was still dotted with peppermint-flavored nectar - the excess that had dripped from Tinsel’s pussy down along that candy shaft. “Look at the mess you made. Such a dirty, pointy-eared bitch.”

“I-I-I-I’m s-sorry, Ms. Claus...I…” Tinsel writhed, helplessly struggling against the Christmas lights binding her. The buckle at the front of her leather collar jingled while she squirmed, and her cheeks flushed a vibrant, shameful red over her prone situation. Ms. Claus was shoving that candy stick deep within her at the same time that she leaned forward with a hand on her belly, and Tinsel could only look up at her with the hope that she wasn’t too cruel that Christmas Eve. “I didn’t...didn’t mean to make a mess…”

“You just can’t help it. You are the biggest whore at the North Pole, after all.” Ms. Claus spoke with a tone of voice that offered the elf a brief amnesty from shame - one that lasted for only a split second before the fingers at Tinsel’s belly suddenly dug forward. She managed to push the candy stick so deep into the elf’s tiny cunt that it bulged her belly outward, and the older woman grasped it through the flesh of the elf’s tummy, wiggling it back and forth with a laugh. “Ho ho ho hooooo! Not just any elf could take one of Ms. Claus’ special treats this deep!”

Tinsel screamed, so loud that it undeniably hit the ears of her husband working next door. He’d only be able to endure the next few hours by throwing himself as deeply into his work as he could, forced to ignore the cries for help and panicked sounds of forced pleasure soon to emerge from his beloved wife. With tears in her eyes Tinsel looked up at Ms. Claus, a pleading look crossing her face even if she couldn’t find the words to speak on behalf of sympathy. Ultimately, her silence led to the older woman suddenly jamming her fingers against the elf’s belly and pushing on the peppermint stick hard, going at her with such force that the thing suddenly shot from the elf’s little cunt and soared far across the room, a sweet, juice-coated projectile.

“Ho ho ho! Just like one of the Nerf guns in the war toy division!” Ms. Claus roared with laughter, and took a look down between Tinsel’s legs. While she did so, her hands shifted to begin stripping the elf of the lights, ripping them from her slender figure and slowly tossing them to the floor. The only thing she was left wearing before long was the big black leather collar tightly fitted around her throat, marked with that gold buckle at the front. It was a collar that never came off - even during the rest of the year. Once Ms. Claus had her little toy stripped she peered at the juice-covered thighs of the elf, scented in peppermint and sticky with the syrupy flavor of the candy. A true, disgraceful mess. “Well, I suppose that’s enough time spent being nice to you, cunt. It’s time for Ms. Claus to get her Christmas present. Can you guess what that is?”

Tinsel laid there, trembling, crying, and helpless. In response to the older woman’s question, she merely started to part her lips. Before long her mouth was stretched open wide and her tongue rolled forward to offer itself up, tears still streaking from the corners of her eyes as she waited. Her answer was silent but accurate, and Ms. Claus’ joy filled the room and the halls beyond.

“Ho ho hoooooo! A wonderful guess, you dumb, ball-sucking bitch!” Her merry tone was so loud and booming that even the elves in the anime figure division heard her. “Time for Ms. Claus to get her big North Pole sucked!”

As pleased as she was about Tinsel’s willingness to open up and let her throat be used, Ms. Claus wasn’t about to go easy on her now. With a heavy swing she moved one of her knees above the elf’s head and the other soon followed suit, allowing that massive member to flop on her tiny body from above. All Tinsel could see was the large balls of Ms. Claus dangling before her eyes just before the older woman grasped the elf by the narrow throat and pulled her into position. Tinsel barely had a chance to scream before her mouth was overtaken by Ms. Claus’ member, shoved squarely inside and jamming ahead without any care or consideration for the elf’s well being. The size difference between the two ensured that the impact of her enormous dick was traumatic and terrifying for the tiny elf, but Tinsel had proven in the past that she could take it. After all, this was hardly her first Christmas Eve stretched out on Ms. Claus’ bed getting throatfucked!

Ms. Clause moved her hand from Tinsel’s throat to her chest, pinning her against the mattress while she kept forcing the inches inside. The little elf was gaggling and gurgling and her hands had locked hard against the sheets, fingers drawing tight within the fabric as she tried to maintain her composure. As Ms. Claus’ cock travelled deeper and deeper the elf’s throat naturally started to bulge - so much so that the leather collar around her throat fought against the growing tension. The only real loser in the situation was Tinsel herself, as the leather managed to hold fast while only intensifying the grip the elf’s wet flesh held around that enormous cock, giving Ms. Claus an even more delightful ride forward. Before long she had managed to hilt herself within Tinsel’s mouth, and a glance down at the elf’s figure told her everything she needed to know - the bitch had been stuffed with care, and was only barely hanging on.

Her throat was stretched and Ms. Claus’ dick went even beyond, at that point likely teasing the entrance to her stomach with the very tip of her massive member. Tinsel’s noises were that of chaos and despair and shock, sharp cries that were nonetheless forced to travel around the edges of Ms. Claus’ dick if they were to be heard in the room next door. She wiggled from side to side but it was hard to tell if Tinsel was actively resisting or if it was just the desperate movements of a spasming body that was losing control - Ms. Claus would’ve believed either. The entire time Tinsel could do little more than drool messy lines of spit across her own cheeks and breathe in musky lungfuls of Ms. Claus’ scent, delivered squarely against her nose via those heavily resting chestnuts.

“There we go, Tinsel. Not too bad for an old elf whore.” Ms. Claus purred, and helped herself to smooth her hands across the elf’s slender, naked frame. She was possessively and pawing, greedy and groping, and when she came to Tinsel’s nipples she ensnared them both within her fingers to give them a fierce squeeze. While she twisted them the choked elf spasmed all the harder and kicked her legs in an attempt to flee, but there was no escape for her that Christmas. Her throat, her nipples, any hole on the elf’s body, every inch of pale, cream-colored flesh...all of it was for Ms. Claus’ undisputed pleasure, and the merry old woman would claim her due.

“I’m going to pump you full of cum, squeeze you until it all comes out, and then do it again.” Ms. Claus purred with a menacing, threatening tone to her voice, slowly starting to thrust. She opted for shorter but more powerful strikes, merely rocking her hips back and forth a few inches to keep her dick firmly within the elf’s gullet. The tight grip of the leash around Tinsel’s throat served as the perfect aid, ensuring that even those shortened strokes gave her moments of blissful intensity. “I might just save your pussy and ass for when I return from delivering presents, but...we’ll see. I’d hate to send you back to that pathetic husband of yours desperate for a real dick in your fuckhole.”

Tinsel whimpered, helplessly, and could only add tears to the mix of drool and sweat crossing her face. Her husband was a good elf and didn’t deserve this horrible treatment, and yet...what could she possibly do to refuse Ms. Claus’ wishes? She owned the North Pole and ruled it with a dominant fist - and even though she was savagely brutal to the two of them, the other elves all adored her. Some even envied Tinsel’s role as the old woman’s cocksleeve, whispering about her behind her back and wondering why she got to be Ms. Claus’ favorite. It was a grim duty that Tinsel would’ve given anything to trade to a younger elf, and yet...her desires held no bearing in the matter. The only thing of importance was the desires of Ms. Claus, and making sure her lusts were sated this close to the stressful Christmas season.

Every breath that Tinsel took, her nose was forced against the spot where Ms. Claus’ shaft met her heavy, sweaty sack. It was utterly impossible to escape the scent of her musk, to prevent drawing in grotesque lungfuls of her aroma on each and every thrust. She could even feel the swear of Claus’ balls rub against her eyes and forehead with every thrust forward, making her cringe and tremble with crawling skin and a racing, lightheaded mind. The old woman’s hands were brutal upon her, digging against her shoulders and practically grinding her into the mattress, holding her down with all of her considerable might because if she didn’t, that mighty cock would throatfuck her right off the bed. Such was the bane of being so tiny and lightweight - she’d get thrown into the wall, if the grip of her mouth and throat around Ms. Claus’ cock wasn’t so damned tight.

“That’s it, you worthless little whore…” Ms. Claus purred, grinding her hips from side to side and savoring the moment. She could feel the weight of her mighty dick rolling against the tender walls of Tinsel’s throat, nuzzling the slippery bumps cascading down into her gullet. The elf’s spit was slathering across her balls where it was then rubbed against Tinsel’s tightly shut eyes, further smearing her in the stench of her lust and the intense domination she threw upon her. Soon Claus’ hands shifted on the elf’s body to press firmly down against her tiny tits, bracing them there with her fingers pinching against Tinsel’s nipples with a downright painful grip. Claus was bigger, stronger, and thicker than Tinsel could ever hope to handle...and yet she was showing no signs of stopping as she kept rutting her hips back and forth. “Take every inch of my cock and gag on it. You’re going to be tasting my dick in your spit for a week, you holly jolly fuckslave.

Tinsel was crying against Ms. Claus’ balls, but the moisture of her tears blended with the spit that had oozed across them. Every now and again she found the strength to take a breath but it was always swallowed by a sudden sob, unable as she was to control her emotions in the height of all that trauma. Her thighs were still left sticky from that peppermint stick that had occupied her hole and despite the sadness filling her there was still excitement against her nethers - a shameful, wet pleasure that only made her guilt hang all the heavier on her head. She despised this torment, and yet...her tiny elf body was bristling with sinful glee. That little pussy had seen some harsh abuse over the years at Ms. Claus’ hand, and it had been trained well to respond to her cruelty with delight.

“Here I come, tramp!” Ms. Claus roared loud enough to ensure that Tinsel’s husband next door could hear, and she jammed herself ahead to the point that she could go no further. Tinsel’s nose was buried deeply against her sack and the tip of her cockhead was lodged firmly down her throat, occupying spaces no cock was meant to go and ensuring that she’d be depositing her cum directly into Tinsel’s stomach. It was always rough the first time Ms. Claus filled her pet elf with spunk on Christmas Eve - the older woman famously held herself back for weeks on end, just to make sure that Tinsel could have herself a white Christmas.

She was going to pump that little slut full of more cum than most elves would ever see in their entire life, and she was going to unleash it point blank within her belly. No middle-man acquired - the woman so many perceived as Santa Claus took pride in making all of her deliveries in person.

When Ms. Claus finally and suddenly hit her peak, she pushed herself forward with every bit of strength she could muster, forcing Tinsel to give yet another sharp yet muffled gag as she ensured her meat was the only thing the elf could focus on. Her cock throbbed so hard and so thick that Tinsel could feel it pulse within her, pushing at the leather collar from within and trembling its entire way down inside of her. Tinsel’s eyes shot open from the shock and she gazed against the musky, stinging flesh of Ms. Claus’ nuts when the tip of her member finally unleashed its torrent, and it was every bit as horrifying as the elf feared. Her belly instantly became full as Ms. Claus deposited her spunk straight into her stomach, flooding her with a rush of creamy, warm cocknog that began to steadily bloat her belly. She flailed violently yet pathetically, her belly stretching more and more as Ms. Claus’ climax continued.

“Yesssss, whore...take it all...take every...last...fucking...drop…” Ms. Claus hissed harder as she pounded herself forward, trembling in delight while her favorite cunt gobbled her spunk. She watched the elf’s belly balloon up with abject delight, and when it could stretch no further her cum was forced to rush right back up through the elf’s throat in order to escape. The leather collar maintained its strength once more as the river of cum flowed upward, ejecting itself through Tinsel’s senses before spurting out from the corners of her mouth and her tiny nostrils up against Ms. Claus’ balls. Muffled screeching and panicked sobbing ran from the elf’s throat as it happened, a bloated little bitch that couldn’t stop squirming while she was used for the old woman’s delight.

Ms. Claus closed her eyes to savor it, and despite Tinsel’s flailing considered it quite the soothing experience. She had been sitting on that climax for weeks now, holding it in special for that moment. It was her Christmas gift to Tinsel, and one she had been sorely tempted to use on any one of her other pets. Why, Ms. Claus had an entire wing of her workshop dedicated to the teenage runaways that found their way to the North Pole! Any one of those cute human cunts would’ve clamored for a chance to take Ms. Claus’ candy cane inside their holes. And yet...Ms. Claus saved it all for Tinsel.

And it was always so much fun to watch someone unwrap their gift and be surprised. Tinsel certainly was - surprised that Ms. Claus could shoot what was rapidly equating to two ful gallons of cum, surprised that her belly could stretch so far while pumped with it, and surprised that she somehow managed to retain consciousness through the entire filthy affair. As cum continued to squirt from her nose and ooze from the edges of her moaning and sobbing mouth, the little slip of a thing soon started to tire herself out. She was flailing and screaming with such vigorous fury that it wasn’t long before she started to slow, her arms resting against the bed and her peppermint-coated thighs falling back to the mattress. Soon there was no more gagging and muffled shrieking, no more tantrums being held by the luckiest elf in the North Pole. There was just a gentle, wet sobbing that came in between noises of moist suckling as she struggled to claim her breaths.

And Ms. Claus, once realizing that her little elf had finally found some semblance of peace, or at the very least rest, was quick to strip it from her. As soon as Tinsel seemed like she was anything close to comfortable, the older woman pressed her hand flat against the elf’s cum-bloated belly and suddenly and sharply leaned forward with all of her weight. Squiiiiiiiiish!  
The end result was exactly as she expected. Tinsel made a horrified noise that was so loud and vivid that it even pierced the blanket of spunk flooding her senses, rising high into the air and certainly heard by her husband next door. When Ms. Claus pushed on her belly that gallon of cum shot right back up her throat, riding along the sides of Ms. Claus’ cock and pushing itself straight out of her mouth and nose once more. Ms. Claus nearly felt like she was giving her nuts a tender path in warm delight while she pressed down on Tinsel’s belly, as the elf’s nose was working overtime to give that copious payload of spunk a chance to escape.

The squirt from that push to Tinsel’s belly was even longer than Ms. Claus’ initial climax, and when it was finally over the elf resumed her soaked sobbing with her throat still occupied by the older woman. Her head ached. Her sinuses screamed. Every breath and every flavor that struck her tongue was filled with the essence of Ms. Claus. She couldn’t gulp down a precious swallow of air, couldn’t move her tongue, couldn’t sniffle, without being reminded of just how thoroughly she was coated in the other woman. Whether it was cum, sweat, musk, or the taste of her balls...there was no part of Tinsel’s face that Ms. Claus hadn’t somehow marked.

The older woman from above didn’t say all that much, but she allowed her dick to remain firmly present within Tinsel as her hands stretched to the nearby nightstand and she chose her next instrument of pleasure. The jolly old woman had a golden chain that perfectly matched the buckle on Tinsel’s collar, and while the elf was still recovering Ms. Claus moved to latch it to her. From a collar to a full-blown leash, as soon as Tinsel heard the familiar jingle of the chains she knew just what was expected of her. A leashed elf had plenty of uses, but there was nothing she could do until Ms. Claus started to pull her cock out of her throat - something she did with a gradual pace so as to ensure that she drug the moment out as much as possible.

“Gnnnnnnnngguuuuh…” Tinsel made disgusting noises while that mighty member left her mouth, and as soon as it popped free of her lips Ms. Claus was shameless enough to smack her with it. Across one cheek and then the other, and then to drop down full across her chest with her spit-soaked cock oozing cum onto the elf’s tiny tits. Tinsel took that opportunity to breathe in deep and heavy, desperate to catch her breath from that nightmare, but with a tug of the leash Ms. Claus was quick to remind her that her current situation did not afford whores the chance to rest.

“Up, bitch.” The dominant older woman demanded, jangling the chain to ensure that the girl hadn’t totally lost consciousness. “On your feet beside the bed. Ms. Claus isn’t done with you yet, whore.”

“Y...Ye--” Tinsel suddenly paused and coughed, pounding a hand against her chest as she violently winced. More cum from her throat and belly passed her lips and onto the bed, making even more of a soaked, creamy mess on the mattress. Her nose and mouth were dripping a moist, vile display of shameless filth by the time she looked back up to the older woman, continuing her obedient thought. “Y-Yes, Ms.Claus.”

It took Tinsel a few tries, but she finally managed to hobble to her feet and stand at the edge of the bed. Even then, her head only barely rose above it, putting her at the perfect position for her next duty. Ms. Claus was slowly maneuvering to roll herself over on her hands and knees, her massive cock swinging forward so far that it pressed to the mattress and slid forward. She moved in such a way that her ass was left fully exposed to the tiny elf - the ample rump of a curvy goddess demanding to be served. Before Tinsel was allowed to work, however, Ms. Claus saw fit to sweeten the deal with a grim, wicked smile on her lips.

“Such a disgusting mess you made, cunt.” She growled, and slipped her fingers through the cum that the elf had just spit up. Reaching underneath herself, she slapped those coated digits against her taint, smearing the mess back and forth, across the pucker of her own ass and at the very back of her balls. After two more trips to the mattress she managed to scoop up all of the mess that Tinsel had left behind, turning what was already a feast into a whole new type of demanding torment. With her taint coated in spit-drenched cum, Ms. Claus shook herself from side to side, and looked over her shoulder with a brow lifting behind the lenses of her wireframe glasses. “Clean me up, elf trash. Or I’ll find a new favorite bitch to curry my favor towards.”

As much as Tinsel was shamed by her role as Ms. Claus’ cocksleeve, as much as it broke her heart to be constantly used one room over from her husband, she knew it was better than the alternative. If it wasn’t her, then Ms. Claus would find a new favorite...and whoever that favorite was would have a husband to replace her own. Both she and Jingles would be out in the snow if she dared to push back against Ms. Claus, and that overwhelming power the older woman wielded made sure she could do anything she desired. There was nothing that Tinsel would deny her, such was the love she had for her husband. Or at least...it was what she told herself.

Leaning forward with a cringing expression, Tinsel moved her mouth against the salty mess that waited for her. She pursed her lips against the sloppy mixture of spit and cum and started to slurp it up, pulling inward with long, wet noises that made it clear to Ms. Claus she was taking the easy way out. Unwilling to let her elf whore ever cheat her of true pleasure, the older woman suddenly pushed a hand back to squeeze it into Tinsel’s hair, tightening her fingers in the locks before suddenly jamming her forward.

“Not like that, bitch!” She roared, her tone bordering on angry. “Clean it right, you dumb, worthless, ass-sucking slut!”

Tinsel whined, and her hands clapped against Ms. Claus’ ample ass, holding on tight while her head was left spinning. Her nose was forced to press flesh against her owner’s taint, and as she opened her mouth to loudly wail she had no choice but to slurp against the back of her balls. Her tongue rolled forward to begin cleaning with a wince that spread across her entire face, dragging that tiny elf muscle back and forth over the older woman’s nuts, slowly but surely removing that dense layer of spit. Considering the size difference between the pair, it would most certainly be a long affair to do so, and so it was a fortunate thing that Ms. Claus still had plenty of time before her trip across the world began.

Tinsel cried as she worked. A loving mother. A doting wife. A good employee that built toys for children all around the world. She was a model elf in so many ways, but just as Ms. Claus had so readily paraded her naked, candy-stuffed body around the workshop, everyone at the North Pole knew that there was more than one side to Tinsel. A loving mother that allowed her throat to be reamed. A doting wife that was constantly choking on the cock of someone that wasn’t her husband. A good employee that built toys for children...when she wasn’t eating Ms. Claus’ ass. Her tears continued to roll as she worked, moving past Ms. Claus’ balls and drifting towards her taint. Her duties continued with long, slow licks of her tongue as her hands continued to knead against the other woman’s ample rear, slowly massaging it as she knew her owner liked. Slow work. Slow work that she could only be grateful to Ms. Claus for allowing her to do.

Draped across the bed was the same chain that Ms. Claus had connected to her leash, and once more the older woman moved to claim it within her palm. She pulled it straight between her own legs and fiercely yanked on it from time to time, forcing Tinsel to dig deeper with her tongue and further coat herself in the heavy musk on offer. Every time the elf heard the chain begin to jingle she knew another pull was coming, although even when she braced herself for the impact it was never to any avail. She was always helpless. Always off guard. Always used like the depraved taint-cleaning bitch she was.

Twenty minutes in, and that little elf tongue had only managed to clean up the mess from Ms. Claus’ balls and taint, with the majority of that cum and spit cocktail slathered against the older woman’s pucker. It demanded attention and there was no avoiding it, and when Tinsel finally braced herself to move upon her owner’s ass Ms. Claus finally gave a chuckle. Sometimes, it was worse when she didn’t speak much - and for twenty minutes now, she had only communicated through the jangling of her chain used as a leash. The sound of Ms. Claus’ voice again was enough to send shockwaves through the naked, abused elf, and she paused just a few inches ahead of Ms. Claus’ ass while she listened to her demand.

“When you’re done eating my ass, whore,” She began, and pulled on the leash again as if Tinsel needed a reminder of her authority. “I expect you right back on the bed ready to suck my cock one more time before I leave. Then we’ll see to getting you back to your husband for Christmas Day...if he’d even still want a worthless, stretched out bitch like you.”

“Y...Yes...Ms. Claus.” Tinsel merely whimpered, her eyes burning hotter as she dipped in to finish her task. The sweeping strikes of an elf tongue across Ms. Claus’ cum-coated pucker took a while to do their duty, each one slowly drifting up and down to begin gobbling that cocktail of spit and spunk. When her mouth was full she took the time to swallow, knowing full well what a harsh punishment she’d earn if she ever dared to spit it out. She couldn’t even hope to do so covertly, because Ms. Claus - as so many people remembered - knew when you were naughty, and knew when you were nice.

“Mmm...that’s it. Nice and clean. Keep at it.” Ms. Claus chuckled, and nibbled her bottom lip while Tinsel’s tongue continued. Her cock remained rock hard the entire time, pointing straight down against the mattress and leaking a fair amount of precum as it did so. She was pulsing with power and strength, brimming with desire, and so ready to once more throat the little bitch to the point she cried and broke. Every time Tinsel’s tongue stroked her in a new way, every time the elf’s nose squeezed between her ample cheeks, it made Ms. Claus shudder in a new wave of pleasure...and convinced her all the more that the bitch deserved every drop of cum she would soon receive. When the sloppy, dutiful task was finally complete Ms. Claus started to shift from her position, yanking the leash fiercely to one side - hard enough to make Tinsel yelp and collapse to the side of the bed.

“I need to be on my sleigh soon, cumsucker.” Ms. Claus growled, and continued to pull on the leash until Tinsel was effectively dragged aboard the bed. The mighty older woman soon leaned back against a small mountain of pillows at the head, and her cock rose up nearly as tall as Tinsel could stand. With the dazed elf kneeling before her and wondering just how she would tackle this monumental task, Ms. Claus gave a wry grin and slapped her hands against the elf’s narrow, trembling waist. “I don’t have time for you to do this yourself, cunt. I’ll guide this sleigh tonight.”

“M-Ms. Claus, wha--ahhhh…!”

Tinsel gasped as Ms. Claus suddenly yanked her up into the air, twisting her about until her ass was pointing towards the ceiling and her head towards that massive, glistening cockhead. Without another word of explanation the older woman thrust the elf downward just like she was a two-handed sleeve, pushing the tip of her cock against Tinsel’s mouth and forcing her all the way down. The kicking of the elf’s legs and the pathetic flailing of her arms did nothing to stop Ms. Claus’ sudden and forceful advance, her hands moving to wrap around the elf’s waist to keep her perfectly balanced. A groan of hungry pleasure came from the boss of the North Pole and she thrust her hips forward lightly, managing to squeeze that last final inch of cockmeat into her struggling, shrieking pet.

The chain still connected around Tinsel’s throat jangled while she was used as a wriggling toy, forced to take that mighty member to a point of almost suffocating depth. Her belly was bloating from the impact and there were heavy tears rolling from her eyes, the little thing openly weeping while she was so brutally manhandled and facefucked. The curvy, full ass of Ms. Claus settled neatly on the mattress as she made herself comfortable, stretching her legs and bracing the heels of those knee-length booths to the corners of the bed. This was the perfect way to prepare for her long day of work, ensuring that she would be able to do her duties with empty balls and a refreshing outlook.

“Hnnng...you miserable, dirty little cocksleeve…” Ms. Claus suddenly pursed her lips and spit - aiming it to strike squarely against the bare elf pussy a few inches in front of her face. “I can smell the peppermint on your cunt, you dirty bitch! Just imagine everything your husband will smell on you once I’m done!”

Not that he particularly needed to smell his wife to know what she had been doing, considering how he had been forced to listen to it all through the thin wall between their rooms. But still, when Tinsel was allowed to return to him he’d no doubt have to struggle with the various stenches clinging to his bride’s flesh - from the smell of Ms. Claus’ musk to the stale smell of spit, to the creamy aroma of the older woman’s dense, thick, vicious cum. There was no part of his beloved wife, the mother of his children, that would be free of the stink of Ms. Claus once she was finished with her. Tinsel knew as much, and it only made her weeping intensify throughout the brutal process.

She was forced fiercely up and down, her head left pounding and her sense reeling from the strain. Dangled upside-down and used as the cocksleeve of a madwoman was enough to take anyone’s equilibrium away, and it wasn’t long before Tinsel could barely tell her left from her right, as shaken and throated as she was. Her world became one of scent and taste, savored along with the melody of soaked slurping noises as she layered Ms. Claus’ cock in her spit. Her arms and legs didn’t kick very much anymore, instead opting to simply hang limp as she resigned herself to this new madness. Every time she served Ms. Claus the beast of a woman found a new way to punish her, and this was just the next step.

Before too long, Ms. Claus began to rumble in yet another climax, and as powerful as the last one shook her this was angling to match it. Her heavy balls churned in pleasure as she spun her arms faster and faster, pounding the elf’s mouth against her lap with an outright reckless and wild desire. She cared nothing for Tinsel’s comfort. Nothing for her safety. For her, the hot little elf was nothing more than a warm mouth to grip her dick...and a convenient, tiny belly to hold her holly jolly spunk. One hand soon reached up and clapped against Tinsel’s pussy from above - her thumb hooking into the elf’s cunt while the rest of her hand clutched her rear. And though Tinsel shrieked in a shameful pleasure, it wasn’t Ms. Claus’ intent.

She wasn’t trying to make the elf whore cum. Why would she? She simply needed a better grip on the bitch.

With that fierce hold on her prized whore, Ms. Claus soon fucked her into a state of bliss - and just as Tinsel gave in to a spasming climax she absolutely hated herself for, Ms. Claus joined in with another unleashed torrent of cum. Even though she was fighting gravity she once more managed to fill the elf’s belly, and enjoyed a similar response this time as Tinsel’s body began to bloat and against increasingly muffled moans and screams cum unleashed from the elf’s tiny nose. This time, Ms. Claus was lucky enough to see it. The look in Tinsel’s eyes when her sinuses were overflowing. The expression of ache and helplessness. The broken look of a bitch that knew she was utterly and completely defeated, owned, and worthless. There was only one appropriate reaction to seeing a bitch in such a shattered state.

“Ohhhh ho ho ho hoooooo! Merry Christmas, you dumb, trashy cunt!” Ms. Claus roared with delight, making positive that her voice was loud enough for Tinsel’s husband to hear next door. While her balls drained within the elf’s belly and throat the older woman finally gave a satisfied sigh, flopping back against her pillows and removing her hands from the elf’s body. Even then, Tinsel didn’t really drop off of her member - instead, she simply remained there throat and belly bulging, helpless to wiggle free of her mistress’ member.

Ms. Claus wore her like a cock ornament, and as she studied the cum-filled tart struggling for air, had a brilliant idea. A hand reached out to reclaim the dressing she had used on Tinsel during their initial march - the string of Christmas lights and the festive ribbons she had been decorated with. While Tinsel remained harpooned on her dick, drooling around the sides and completely helpless to remove herself, Ms. Claus stuck out her hands and began to decorate her, singing merrily as she did so.

“...Deck the halls with boughs of holly, hmm hmm hmm mmm mmm, mmm mmm…” Her pleasant singing turned to a gentle hum as she worked, striking the still-blinking lights around her cocksleeve. She decorated the whore just like a Christmas tree, and although there was no star for the top, that wasn’t anything Ms. Claus couldn’t take care of! Once the lights were in place and bows were affixed to Tinsel’s nipples again, Ms. Claus snapped her fingers and with a bit of holiday magic conjured a whole new toy into her hands - a golden, flawless Christmas star...attached to a dildo with studs and a cocktip two sizes too big for Tinsel’s pussy.

Not that it stopped her. Ms. Claus finished decorating her tree by jamming the dildo into Tinsel’s little elf pussy, leaving her a fanciful mess in her cock-harpooned position. Beautiful, in a way. In a very twisted, demented way.

“Oh, you look absolutely lovely.” Ms. Claus cooed, before suddenly cupping her hands around the edges of her mouth and giving a sudden call. “Jingles! Jingles, come in here immediately! I have a Christmas tree for you to put in your living room, dear!”

Tinsel just wept, dangling there and flooded with cum, arms limp and wrapped in lights, dildo stuffed deep within her cunt. As disgraced as she had ever been, and now waiting for her husband to come in and admire the “tree.”

Ms. Claus always made sure to bring a Merry Christmas to all the good boys and girls, but it wasn’t officially Christmas until she broke her favorite whore.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Merrrrrrrrrrry Christmas to all, and to all a good night to follow my ass on [Twitter!](http://www.twitter.com/DraceTales)


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